


Microeconomics

by dettiot



Series: Core Curriculum [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-02 01:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4040410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been five years since that frat party, since that night of amazing sex.  Now Felicity runs her own computer company and Oliver is CEO of Queen Consolidated.  What’s changed about them--and what hasn’t?  Part of the Core Curriculum series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Microeconomics

**Author's Note:**

> Just so we’re clear: this is not a sequel to **Archaeology**. It’s a sequel to **Women’s Studies** , so it's another way Oliver and Felicity’s next encounter might have gone. This time, it’s five years later with no island. I hope you enjoy this! Many thanks to mersayseh and youguysimserious for fixing verb tenses and solving problems.

Even though she knew her hair was fine, Felicity couldn't help running a light hand over her ponytail, making sure no wisps had escaped. After all, this was a big meeting for her: to discuss a long term consulting contract with Queen Consolidated.

In the two years since she had left Wayne Enterprises' IT department and gone out on her own as a consultant, she had slowly made a name for herself in the business world. This contact was her biggest opportunity yet and she was determined not to screw this up, unlike her pitch to Kord Industries.

Wincing at the memory, Felicity stepped into the lobby of Queen Consolidated headquarters and went through the security screening process. With a visitor badge clipped at her hip, on the hem of her purple peplum top, she walked towards the executive elevator. Her heels clicked against the marble floors and Felicity felt her confidence rise.

Queen Consolidated needed all the help they could get. After all, the company was run by a man who had barely passed tenth grade algebra. A man who had made a startling about-face five years ago, going from his wild playboy ways to something much more conservative, for reasons no one knew. All the world knew was that Oliver Queen had turned his life around and become the upstanding citizen and businessman everyone wanted him to be.

Most everyone thought it had been the death of his father that made him change. But Felicity wondered if it was something else.

Especially when she realized that Oliver Queen was her Oliver. Not _hers_ hers, of course. How could he be hers when all there was between them was one hook up in college, five years ago?

_It wasn't just a hook up_ , her mind prodded her. _It was more than that--or could have been more than that. But you were too scared to take the risk._

Felicity swallowed. This contract could make her company, establish her as the foremost IT consultant in the business world. But it would also mean six months of working with Queen Consolidated’s CEO, a man whose cock she had once sucked, a man who knew a side of her that few people did.

And she was about to walk into his company's conference room and make a pitch for her services. For her company! There would be no servicing. None whatsoever.

As long as she remembered that she was a professional, it would be fine. She was a professional, with a master’s degree from MIT and years of experience in her field. And her plans for Queen Consolidated would create new jobs, improve its operating efficiency, and get them plenty of positive press. 

It didn’t matter that their CEO had given her the best night of her life. Not even a little bit. 

With her head held high, the words ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ running through her mind, Felicity stepped up to the receptionist’s desk. “Hi, I’m Felicity Smoak. I have a ten-thirty meeting with Mr. Queen,” she said to the round-faced young man, in what she hoped was a confident and friendly manner. 

“Yes, Ms. Smoak, Mr. Queen and the board are expecting you,” the receptionist said, pushing back from his desk. “Please follow me.” 

She did just that, keeping her shoulders back and her head high, as said online to guarantee success as a woman in a man’s world. 

The assistant led her into a glass-walled room, with an office visible at the far end. A large metal conference table dominated the room, the people seated around the table swiveling in their chairs to face Felicity as she stepped into the room. 

And at the head of the table, rising to his feet and buttoning his suit jacket, was Oliver Queen. 

In person, he looked even better than he did in the photographs she’d seen online. His hair was shorter now and a bit darker, the lower half of his face was covered in sexy scruff, and his body definitely looked more toned and muscled than it had five years ago.

What hadn’t changed? His eyes. They were still so blue and so expressive. They showed exactly what he was feeling: like going wide as he approached her. She bit her lip when he stopped halfway towards her and the realization appeared in his eyes. 

He remembered her now. She braced herself for what might happen. Would he tell her to leave? Would he act like some frat boy and leer at her during her presentation, which she knew would thoroughly rattle her? Oh, God, would he say something to her? Right here, with the entire board watching and listening?

Lifting her chin a bit higher, Felicity stepped forward, her hand out. “Mr. Queen,” she said, deciding to take as much control as she could. “It’s a pleasure to be here today.” 

That couldn’t be construed as an innuendo, could it? 

“Ms. Smoak,” he said, his voice deep and low and God damn it, even sexier than it had been the last time she had heard it. He took her hand, his skin warm and soft, and she felt a tingle go up her arm as they shook hands. “We . . . we’re excited to hear your presentation.” 

“All right, let’s get started,” she said, feeling strangely disconnected from her body. Because how was she managing to talk and be professional, in spite of their past history? The history that they both remembered. 

She didn’t know, but she hoped this was a good sign. 

XXX

As Felicity walked towards the head of the table, her stride confident and really-fucking-sexy in her pencil skirt, Oliver moved back to his chair and sat down heavily.

How had he not put this together? Felicity wasn’t exactly a common name. While the board had been more gung-ho about this presentation than he was--all part of their advocacy for QC to hire an IT consultant--Oliver had always prided himself on being ready for every meeting, every pitch. Yet with trying to get the Applied Sciences Division up and running, building a new research complex near the Glades, and juggling his personal life, he hadn’t done enough research for this presentation.

And if he had just done some Googling, he would have known that the women who was speaking so confidently, making an incredibly polished and persuasive pitch for her company, was the same woman who had whispered the filthiest things he had ever heard while he had sucked on her breast. 

The woman who had made him realize he wanted more out of life than being some frat boy.

The morning that he had woken up in his frat house bedroom, Oliver had considered trying to find Felicity. But then he had stopped and reconsidered. She was crazy smart, funny, beautiful--a woman who was going to go places. And meanwhile . . . all he had going for him was the money his family had. There was nothing else that made Oliver Queen important or special or worthy. 

It was a sobering thought. One that made him not go after Felicity. Instead, he had gone back to Starling, but it was only a temporary stop until he picked a new college. And when he arrived at Stanford, he actually applied himself. Went to class, participated in group projects, studied in the library. The whole nine yards. Even his father’s death hadn’t derailed him--if anything, it motivated him more, because he was needed to take over now. And in the meantime, he repaired the relationships that he had nearly destroyed with his years of bad behavior: with his family, with his friends. The friends that really mattered: Tommy and Laurel. 

At the end of three years, he had his degree, the pride and respect of his mother, the love of his sister, and the support of his friends. Oliver Queen was someone beyond his name and his money. 

Now, he was running his family’s company, doing his part to make Starling City a better place . . . he should feel like he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. 

But he didn’t. It all felt empty. Hollow. Not nearly as good as he thought it would. 

Oliver thought that maybe it was because he didn’t have anyone to share his achievements with. He had dated casually while he was at Stanford, but the last year had been so busy with work, he couldn’t find the desire to do more than flirt a little with women he met at various galas or charity events. 

Maybe if Laurel was free, they would have given it another try, this time as mature adults. But Laurel had begun dating Tommy two years ago, and they were so in love it was ridiculous. Oliver had never seen either of his friends so happy. And that made him happy, even if it left him alone. On the outside, watching everyone around him find what they were looking for. 

All of this went through his mind as he watched Felicity. He wasn’t sure he actually heard what she was saying. He could tell the board was responding positively. But Oliver was more focused on taking in Felicity. 

Her hair was blonde now--blonde like sunshine, instead of dark as night. Instead of the heavy eye makeup she used to wear, she was fresh-faced and pink-cheeked. And pink-lipped, he thought, his eyes fixating on her brightly-painted mouth. 

A mouth that once--

He cut off that thought and made himself listen to her, suddenly greedy to find out how else Felicity had changed. How she had become the confident, savvy woman in front of him, the woman who looked like she was ready to take on the world. 

The girl he had met five years ago had talked a good game. But the woman in front of him walked the walk. In very sexy heels that highlighted her amazing legs.

Under the table, Oliver clenched his fist and once again forced himself to listen to Felicity. This time, though, he fixed his eyes on the far wall, just above Felicity’s left shoulder, which helped. 

“How do you expect us to believe that spending five million dollars on computers will save Queen Consolidated money?” asked Chuck Deakins, one of the oldest board members yet also the most tech-savvy, relatively speaking. But he liked to surprise people with his technical knowledge, so Oliver waited to see how Felicity would respond. 

“It’s an investment in your infrastructure, no different from any other equipment you buy. I did some investigating and I believe Queen Consolidated has been steered in the wrong direction by your internal IT department. They’ve done amazing work with the servers they have, but they’re making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” Felicity said, smiling at Mr. Deakins like he was her best friend. “The servers I’m recommending would let your staff be able to focus on the cutting-edge work they’re best suited for, instead of having to do low-level technical support.” 

By the time she had finished speaking, Oliver found his eyes were on her face, unable to look away as she perfectly answered the question. She practically had the board eating out of her hand, and he knew there was no way the board would pass up the chance to sign a contract with Smoak Computer Solutions, Inc.

And that meant his life was about to get very interesting. Because all the heat of their first meeting was still there. 

How in the hell could he work with her for the next six months and keep his hands off her? Keep this professional? 

Oliver wasn’t sure he could. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to, either. 

XXX

For the rest of her life, Felicity wouldn’t know how she pulled off that presentation. It was like she had left her body and watched as she had completely charmed the board, deployed all her knowledge to answer their questions, and totally won them over. 

It wasn’t like her, and it made her worry what would happen when she came back down to Earth, but for now . . . she was going to call this a win. 

Especially since Oliver Queen would not stop looking at her and the weight of his eyes on her was enough to make her stumble over her words and fidget without restraint. Yet her sudden newfound professionalism let her stay still, listening as the board members talked, gently clasping her hands at her waist. 

And sneaking looks at Oliver. 

God, he was handsome. He used to be pretty, but now there was something about his face that spoke to hard work and determination. There was a fire there, one that hadn’t been there in Boston. 

She liked it. She wondered if it changed how he made love--had sex. Because when they had fucked, she had been surprised at how focused he had been on her. His needs came second to her own. 

If spoiled rich boy Oliver had sex with a remarkable amount of attention paid to his partner, what would this new, successful, confident businessman version be like in bed?

_Not that you’re going to find out, Smoak_ , she told herself firmly. Putting aside the fact that she couldn’t get involved with a client, Oliver probably had a girlfriend. A woman who had leggy underwear model looks and ran a Fortune 500 company while saving puppies from eye cancer. 

Giving her head a little bit of a shake, she turned to Amelia Hernandez, the head of the board. “I don’t want to take up any more of your valuable time, unless there are further questions?” 

Ms. Hernandez rose from her chair. “Only one: pending the board’s decision, how quickly can you begin?” 

A flutter of surprise and nerves went through Felicity, because--that question was a really, really good sign. Almost without thought, her eyes flicked to meet Oliver’s for a split-second before returning to Ms. Hernandez’s face. “I can begin nearly immediately.” 

“Excellent. All those in favor of hiring Smoak Computer Solutions, please indicate your agreement by saying ‘aye’.” 

A chorus of voices spoke, all saying ‘aye!’ and making Felicity nearly jump from the energy in the room. Only one person stayed silent: the CEO. 

Was a CEO allowed to be a voting member of a board of directors? Or did Oliver not want to hire her? 

“Congratulations, Ms. Smoak,” the board’s president said, a wide smile on her face. “We’d like you to begin as soon as possible.” 

_Holy shit._

Pasting a smile on her face, she shook hands with Ms. Hernandez and some of the other board members, then took a breath when Oliver appeared before her. 

“Someone should have warned you that Amelia moves fast,” he said, shaking her hand and giving her another case of the tingles. 

“But that wouldn’t be any fun at all, Oliver,” Ms. Hernandez said, smiling indulgently. She patted Felicity’s shoulder. “Gerry, Oliver’s assistant, will have your paperwork. Feel free to have your lawyer look over it before you sign. Once you’ve returned it, you can get to work.” 

“Thank you,” Felicity said, feeling overwhelmed. She took a deep breath and looked at Oliver. “Can I have a word?” she asked in a low voice.

Oliver’s jaw tightened, but then his face smoothed out. “Of course,” he said, gesturing towards the far end of the conference room. “My office is right over here.” 

She nodded and took a step, feeling his hand lightly touch her shoulder before drifting down her arm to cup her elbow. And she nearly fell off her heels, because--because--

No. She couldn’t think about that. Not when she was about to draw a line in the sand and pour concrete all over it. 

Keeping her spine very straight, Felicity walked into Oliver’s office and turned to face him, waiting until he closed the door to speak. “Should we talk about what happened?” she asked bluntly, feeling too much uncertainty to be subtle. 

“Do you think we have to?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. Which totally wasn’t about displaying how broad his shoulders were, Felicity was sure. 

“This is a big opportunity for me,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back to stop from fidgeting. “I don’t want to screw up. I--” 

Thank God she managed to bite back the rest of her words. _“I wouldn’t be opposed to screwing **you** , but only if you don’t have a girlfriend. And purely to see how different it would be from the last time.”_

Oliver gave her a long look. “I’m fine with keeping this professional.” 

“That’s all I want--to be professional,” Felicity said firmly.

But whether the firmness was for Oliver’s benefit or hers, Felicity didn’t know.

XXX

Rolling his shoulders, Oliver stepped off the elevator and walked towards his office. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gray skies and heavy rain showcased Starling City in November. It was always bleak at this time of year and normally Oliver always found himself in a funk.

It was no different this November. But the reason for his low spirits was very different from in years past. 

No, his depression was due to a woman who was like the sunshine that he hadn’t seen in a long time. 

The five years since their night together had changed them both, but the changes in Felicity were greater, he thought. It wasn’t just her appearance--although he had been fooled at first into thinking that her looks were the biggest difference in her. The girly clothes, the hair, the makeup: it was such an extreme shift from before. But no, it was Felicity’s personality that kept surprising him. 

She was still strong and confident like he remembered. But she was both more and less poised. When she was speaking with board members or with QC staff, she was focused and direct. But there were times when her mouth got away from her, when words just came tumbling out, leading to a view into that amazing brain of hers, a totally unfiltered and honest look. 

Oliver hadn’t missed that those times when she just couldn’t seem to stop talking until she embarrassed herself happened mostly around him.

It could mean anything. Or it could mean that while she said she wanted to be professional, she was just as affected by him as he was by her. 

The changes in her . . . they intoxicated him. Made him want to question her, watch her, learn everything he could about her. Honestly, it wasn’t that different from how he felt that night five years ago.

Stepping into his office, Oliver braced himself for another day of working with the woman he wanted more than any other woman ever. 

Every other day for the last month, Felicity had already been here when he arrived. Working hard, proving that QC had chosen wisely by hiring her. But today, there was no sign of her in the office that adjoined his. And Oliver couldn’t help worrying just a little.

When an hour went by, Oliver was picking up the phone to call HR and get Felicity’s contact info--determined to track her down--when she walked into her office, looking completely bedraggled. She had a shoe with a broken-off heel in her hand, her bright blue dress was damp and limp, and her hair looked like it had gotten wet and then air-dried. 

“Felicity?” he asked, not aware of how he got from his desk to the doorway of her office.

“Yes--hi--good morning, not that it’s been one for me,” she said, sounding distracted and irritated. 

“What happened?” he asked, a bit tentatively.

She glanced over at him, her eyes measuring, and then she sighed as her shoulders slumped. “My rental car broke down on the side of the road, and my umbrella was completely unprepared for a Starling City rainstorm. Thus, this,” she said, gesturing to herself.

“You could have just gone back home, or dealt with your car, instead of coming in,” Oliver said, easing his way into her office.

“No, I couldn’t,” Felicity said with a huff. “We’re at a critical point and I need to be here.” 

She was so stubborn, Oliver thought, feeling a flare of annoyance. “What good will you be like this, worrying about your rental? And you’re risking getting sick, too.”

Her glare was probably meant to scare him, but he didn’t back down. “Thanks for that newsflash, Oliver,” she gritted out. 

None of this should matter to him. Not her well-being, not her stubbornness, not her glares. She was a consultant, practically an employee. He shouldn’t be worrying about her, wanting to protect her, trying to make her life better. 

But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. 

“Felicity,” he said quietly, reaching out and cupping her elbow. “It’s okay. Let me help. I can call someone to take care of your car.” 

This time, her look was full of heat and anger. “I’m not some damsel in distress. I’ve got everything under control. And I don’t need you or anyone else swooping in to save me.” 

“It’s not like that,” he protested, feeling his frustration reaching a boiling point. “I just want to help you!” 

Something flickered in her eyes, something unhappy and upset and scared. He didn’t understand, because what did she have to be scared about? Was she scared of him? 

Without her heels, Felicity was so petite. Yet that didn’t seem to matter as she took a step towards him, her face lifted as her eyes pinned him in place. “Don’t help me, Oliver. I didn’t ask for it--I’ve never asked for it.” 

“You asked for my help five years ago,” Oliver said, his voice hard and not like his own. “To get you off. To make you scream.” 

Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open, but whether it was from shock or anger, Oliver didn’t know. He didn’t know anything right now. Other than he needed to taste her. 

His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her up against him. The gasp that escaped her made his whole body shake with desire as he pressed his lips against hers. 

XXX

This wasn’t what she should want. As soon as his lips met hers, she should have pulled back and slapped him, for being such a complete and utter dick to throw their night together in her face. She shouldn’t want Oliver, challenging her, pushing her to to be honest. She shouldn’t want Oliver pressing her against his rock-hard body, making her feel so conscious of her own softness. She shouldn’t want Oliver, kissing her like he wanted to drown in her. 

She shouldn’t want Oliver, period. 

But God, did she want him. This past month had been agony. Watching him in action, seeing how much he had changed, how much he had grown into an amazing man . . . it made her dizzy, the wanting. 

There were almost no traces of the spoiled frat boy she had met five years ago. Instead, there was this empathetic, focused, determined, serious man. It didn’t seem like he smiled that often--and he laughed even less. 

It made her want to make him laugh. Caused her to just talk and talk, like she hadn’t since she was a teenager. Felicity thought she had conquered her babbling problem, but something about Oliver brought it out in her. He made her mouth run away from her.

Kind of like it was doing right now, as she kissed him back hungrily. 

Oliver had been a pretty fantastic kisser before. But now, he was at another level. Partly it was physical, thanks to his amazing body and the kinda-soft, kinda-scratchy facial scruff. But it wasn’t just that. There was something about how he held her close to him, something about how his lips pressed against hers. Even though he was practically sucking her face off, there was also a kind of . . . tenderness? Gentleness? 

Felicity didn’t understand it. And she knew she needed to stop this. But just--one minute more. 

After that minute, though, it was Oliver who pulled back. Felicity panted, looking down at the floor and trying to remember what they had been doing before that amazing, knee-buckling kiss. 

Oh, right. Fighting. Fighting about how he wanted to help her, right before he hauled her up against him and kissed her. 

Slowly, Felicity lifted her eyes to Oliver’s face to see that he looked just as breathless as she felt. She opened her mouth to speak, only for Oliver to beat her to it. 

“I--I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” 

It was exactly the kind of thing she had planned to say. So why did hearing Oliver say it make her stomach sink?

But it was the right thing to say, she knew. So she nodded and watched as he walked out of her office. 

Turning so she wasn’t staring at him as he went back to work, Felicity lifted her glasses up to rub her eyes. Her hand trailed down her face as she lowered them and she winced when she pressed against a tender patch of skin. 

She headed into the private bathroom for her office, but not before she stole the quickest, most hidden of glances at Oliver. He was sitting at his desk, turned in his chair to look out the windows with his back to her. Even from here, she could see the tension in his shoulders, could only guess what expression was on his face. 

Probably annoyed. Or regretful. Maybe even disgusted. 

_No, Felicity. You need to stop thinking about this. Be a professional._

The first sight of herself in the mirror made Felicity feel incredibly grateful that no one had seen her after Oliver left her office. Because it was clear that she had been well-kissed. So clear that it was hard to see she had also been caught in the rain. 

There was only five months to go on her contract. As long as no bugs cropped up, no problems developed, she would finish on time, making the board of directors happy and making Felicity happy. She might even finish early.

Because Oliver stirred up too many feelings, too many questions, inside her. She kept repeating her mantra about being a professional, but she knew it wouldn’t work for much longer. Not that it was really working now, as her inability to pull away from Oliver’s mouth showed. 

Closing her eyes, Felicity took a few deep breaths. She could do this. She was an adult and the owner of her own company. She wasn’t some headstrong, impulsive girl anymore, who slept with some guy just because it would feel good. Better than good--shattering, fantastic, never be the same again afterwards. 

She could do this, though. She just had to forget about the kiss, focus on her work, and leave in five months. Simple, easy. 

The first step? Cleaning herself up and removing the evidence of kissing the face off of the Queen Consolidated CEO. Taking advantage of the products she had stocked in the bathroom, Felicity repaired the damage to her hair and face, feeling like she was putting herself back together. Gathering the pieces that had been scattered by the touch of Oliver’s lips to hers. 

And she wasn’t going to think about this anymore. Once she left this bathroom, she was going to push it out of her mind and totally forget that Oliver had kissed her and she had kissed him back. 

Just before she stepped out of the bathroom, Felicity caught her reflection in the mirror. She once again looked like a successful, confident businesswoman, unless you noticed one of two things: her still-swollen lips or her haunted eyes.

XXX

“I’m tellin’ you, Tommy, I’m going crazy.” Oliver threw back the rest of his Scotch and swallowed hard at the burn going down his throat. 

Tommy watched him, his eyes narrowed. “Whoa there, cowboy. If you want to do shots, you don’t do them with Scotch.” 

Grimacing, Oliver nodded and gestured to the bartender for another one. Out of the many benefits of drinking at his sister’s club, tonight he most appreciated the speedy, attentive service. “You’re right.” 

“Of course I’m right. You just gotta do what I told you to do.” 

Oliver blinked at his best friend. “I’m not gonna just walk up to her and start kissing her, Tommy.” 

“Why not? She didn’t mind the last time,” Tommy pointed out, smirking a little at Oliver. 

It was all he could do not to slug Tommy. Which was an extreme reaction, Oliver admitted, but . . . a valid one. Very, very valid. Because who was Tommy to judge him, with how he and Laurel had gotten together? Tommy asked Laurel out for three months before she finally gave him a chance. 

What had worked for Tommy and Laurel wouldn’t work for him and Felicity. Not just because of that night of unlikely but amazing sex five years ago. But because they were different people. And he didn’t know how to recapture what had happened before, what had let her be willing to throw caution to the wind and sleep with him.

He didn’t know how to make something happen with this new Felicity. The woman who had the bouncing blonde ponytail, who wore glasses that were an even better barrier for her eyes than heavy eyeliner. The woman who wore high heels instead of thick-soled shoes and bright, colorful dresses instead of all black. 

God, her dresses. Was she morally opposed to keeping her whole torso covered? Because every dress or top she owned seemed to have some kind of cutout or V, revealing the smooth-looking skin at the swell of her cleavage or her back. Combined with the short skirts that showcased her toned legs, she was killing him.

Shifting on his bar stool, Oliver tried to ignore the problem he was having below the belt.

Maybe he could have found a way to deal with his out-of-control attraction to Felicity if he hadn’t kissed her. But ever since that kiss two weeks ago, he was perpetually on the edge, unable to think about anything else but the taste of her lips, her hands clutching his shoulders, the soft moan she had uttered as he had tilted her head back . . . 

Damn it, he wasn’t some kid anymore. Kissing Felicity like that had been the wrong move. And he was paying for it, since his body kept losing control. Like right now. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blonde ponytail and he immediately turned on his barstool, wondering if it was Felicity. When he realized it wasn’t, the disappointment crashed over him, making his arousal feel even sharper and harder. 

Fuck it. He was going to do something about this. 

Pushing away from the bar, he gestured to Tommy that he was going to the men’s room. But instead, he pushed his way out the secret back door of the club, drawing in deep breaths of cool, moist air. 

In the short alley, half-blocked from the street by a Dumpster, Oliver leaned back against the wall and kept breathing. He looked up at the sky, then ran a hand over his face. 

He wanted Felicity. But he couldn’t figure out how to make that happen. How to get past the walls she had built, how to show her that he had changed, how to convince her that she didn’t have to run. 

So until he figured out something, this would have to do. 

Slowly, Oliver moved his hand down his torso to his belt buckle. Just the brush of his fingers that close to his cock made him pause. But then, his imagination took over and he saw Felicity standing in front of him. It was her hand undoing his belt, her fingers popping the button on his trousers. 

His fantasy Felicity was wearing glasses and eyeliner, her long blonde hair hanging loose and straight around her shoulders, falling over the black-and-white dress she had worn that day. She looked up at him, her bright pink lips parted as she pulled him from his pants. “You’re so hard . . . and so big,” she said, her voice throaty and whisper-soft. Her fingers wrapped around him and her thumb rubbed his head. “You feel so good in my hand.” 

It felt too real. Oliver closed his eyes and started pulling his hand up and down his cock, feeling his hips jerk a little as he imagined how Felicity would do this to him. How her slightly-cool fingers would stroke him up and down, smearing precum over his shaft. How her other hand would cup his balls, rolling them slowly and then giving a gentle squeeze. 

And most of all, he imagined what she would say to him. How she’d say that he felt amazing, that she wanted him, that she was going to take care of him, say how much she loved him--

Gasping, Oliver’s eyes flew open as his cock spasmed, his cum shooting out in white spurts. He was too shocked to do much more than make sure he didn’t come all over his shoes. Because . . . love? 

He was so fucked.

XXX

Felicity lifted her head, then sat up quickly. Oh, God, she had fallen asleep. She had fallen asleep in her office, in the middle of the day, and what kind of businesswoman did that make her look like? 

A bad one, that’s what. 

Shifting in her chair, she turned back towards her computer and froze. 

Apparently, the reason she had woken up was because Oliver had walked into her office. Walked into her office and closed the door. 

He gave her a lopsided smile, one that immediately made her stomach--and other parts of her--clench. “Hey.” 

“I--I wasn’t sleeping. I . . . I was quietly contemplating my successes,” Felicity blurted out, parroting the words she had once seen on a sign in a fellow TA’s cubicle. 

“Were you, now?” Oliver asked, slowly turning the lock on her door. 

She blinked. And then swallowed hard as he started walking towards her, at a slow and stalking pace, like a panther. “Um . . .”

“Were you dreaming, Felicity?” he asked, coming around her desk and leaning against it, looking down at her with dark, penetrating eyes. 

“I . . .” she started to say, only for Oliver to crouch down, wrapping his big hands just under her knees and pulling her towards the edge of her chair. “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly, her heart rate accelerating. 

With a cocky smirk, he kneeled between her legs, resting his hands on her knees. “What does it look like, Felicity?” 

Normally, she’d come back with a sassy reply. Something like “a sexual harassment lawsuit.” But instead, she just let out a soft moan as his hands moved to her inner thighs. 

She was so tired of fighting this. Trying to ignore the tension, the heat, between them, ever since that kiss a month ago. She was so tired of pretending she wasn't affected by him. That she didn't want this. 

All she should have been focusing on was making her company successful. Being a professional. But the only thing she could think about was Oliver. 

His hands were warm and gentle as he slid them up her skirt. “You’re so beautiful,” he said softly, massaging her thighs. He leaned down and kissed her knee and the tenderness of the gesture made her feel like crying. And then his breath washed over her thigh, and she was hot as hell and needy and ready for him. 

“Oliver,” she moaned, sliding a hand into his hair. Giving in to this, to him, to them. 

Pressing his lips against her skin, Oliver started kissing up her leg. His hands wrapped around her panties, giving them an experimental tug, and then he yanked hard, tearing the fabric away. Felicity gasped. 

“Been wanting to do that since you walked into the conference room,” he muttered, his hot breath falling over her center and making her squirm. He let out a soft chuckle. “Eager, Felicity?”

“Oh, shut up and eat me,” she said, pushing his face against her. 

He laughed again, but then his lips were wrapping around her clit and Felicity nearly jumped out of the chair at the contact. God, his mouth felt so good. 

It might have been five years, but Oliver had remembered exactly what she liked. He sucked on her clit, varying the pressure and the speed, as his fingers began a rhythm, plunging in and out of her. His scruff added an extra element, flirting with the line between pleasure and pain, heightening the sensations. Then he sank his fingers in to the hilt and began stroking inside her, exploring, searching for her G-spot. 

“Oh, yes,” she moaned. “Almost--you’re nearly--”

Oliver chuckled and the vibrations against her clit made her jerk in the chair, nearly sliding right off it. His free hand went to her hip, gripping her tightly. 

“Don’t stop,” she said, wiggling against him. “Go, you’ve almost--

“You’re so bossy,” he said, looking up at her with a delighted grin, her juices smeared around his mouth, and at that moment, Oliver Queen was the sexiest, hottest, most fucking beautiful man she had ever seen. 

“Please, Oliver, please--” she keened, needing him, needing this. 

His cocky smirk dimmed into something softer, shyer, happier. “Only because I love you,” he said, before bending his head. 

“What?” she said, her mind reeling, her body hovering on a precipice. Because--he didn’t just--he couldn’t actually--what?

In a daze, Felicity watched as Oliver lowered his head.

And then she woke up. 

Felicity blinked and sat up in bed, looking around her hotel room and breathing hard. She could feel the wetness soaking through her panties and pajama shorts, her tank top rubbing against her erect nipples.

It was hard to say what was worse: waking up from a sex dream, waking up from a sex dream involving her quasi-boss, or waking up from a sex dream involving her quasi-boss saying he loved her before she even got to climax. 

Because now she was hot and ready and wanting, but she only wanted Oliver. The only man she couldn’t have. The man who told her he loved her in her dreams. 

Lifting her hands, Felicity raked them through her hair. _It was just a dream_ , she told herself. It didn’t mean anything. It was just a sign of how long it had been since she had gotten laid. 

But Felicity knew she was lying to herself. 

XXX

It was Friday night. It was nearly midnight. And Oliver was still at the office. 

In the last week, everything that could have gone wrong with QC’s technology infrastructure had not just gone wrong--it had exploded. He wasn’t sure how--Felicity had tried to explain it while fidgeting with her ponytail, taking it out and putting it back up, but trying to explain only seemed to make her more upset and frustrated. So he had moved the conversation to solutions for the problem instead of the problem itself. There was a way to fix it, she assured him, but it meant a lot of late nights. And since the board had experienced a seismic shift when it came to Smoak Computer Solutions, Oliver found himself stuck in the middle. 

Because he wasn’t going to let the board fire Felicity. This wasn’t her fault and he wasn’t going to let her career be sunk and her company be damaged by a simple mistake. 

What else could he do, when it was his fault in the first place? If he hadn’t kissed Felicity two months ago, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. And maybe he wouldn’t be regretting kissing her, because it had just fucked everything up. 

He didn’t regret the kiss. He couldn’t. It had been the best kiss he had ever had. And if he regretted the kiss, it would also mean regretting all the fantasies he had created over the last two months. All the dreams he had, the desires he had let himself indulge in with his hand wrapped around his dick. Not just of how she kissed him and touched him. But the words she said, the promises she made. 

There was no way he regretted the kiss. He only regretted he hadn’t found a way to kiss her again.

Felicity had commandeered the conference room, covering most of the twelve-foot-long table with wires, circuit boards, and other computer parts that he didn’t recognize. She was constantly in motion, moving from her office, the conference room, and the IT department three floors down. Oliver was pretty sure she hadn’t left the building for the entire week--or if she had, it had only been to pick up clothes from her hotel room. Because no matter how late he stayed, she hadn’t left when he did. No matter how early he arrived, she was already here. She was guzzling coffee, surviving on vending machine food, and barely sleeping, judging by the circles under her eyes. 

Yet she was still beautiful to him. Still alluring and tempting and very, very off-limits. 

Due to the kiss, Oliver hadn’t attempted to say anything to Felicity about how hard she was pushing herself. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to, but it was clear that he needed to send her home. She would probably spend the whole weekend here, but she deserved to get eight hours of sleep in an actual bed and eat a real meal before she came back here. He doubted he could convince her to do any more than that--but he was sure as hell going to pull out all the stops to make sure she did that at least, even if it meant tying her to the bed and feeding her himself.

And he really shouldn’t be thinking about how he wanted to tie Felicity to a bed. 

Bracing his shoulders, preparing himself for this fight, Oliver stepped into the conference room, taking in the line of Felicity’s back as she bent over a laptop. Shoving aside any thoughts about how amazing her body looked in that position, he cleared his throat. “Felicity?”

“One minute,” she said, her voice distracted. But he could also hear a note of something new in it--something positive and hopeful. It made him give her the time she asked for instead of pushing her to go home. 

The minute stretched out into two as Felicity typed rapidly, her fingers flying over the keys. Oliver watched as she bit her lip, and he straightened up when she started to smile. 

Then she made the most enthusiastic, most adorable fist pump he had ever seen. “Yes!”

“What?” he asked, taking a step towards her. 

“I knew it!” she said, straightening up and facing him. “The new servers and the old ones weren’t talking to each other and to make it even worse, one of the old servers crashed when we were trying to get everything to work, that’s why the payroll system went down, so everyone was _really_ freaking out, but you know, you were here the whole time, but now--now, we’ve got it! Everything works, and, God, Oliver, I didn’t destroy your company!” 

As she spoke, she had been gesturing wildly, her eyes bright, and moving closer to him. And then, right after she said she hadn’t destroyed his company--a worry he hadn’t known she had--she flung her arms around him and pulled him down, kissing him soundly.

Felicity was just excited, he knew. Excited and relieved and nothing more, probably. That was why she kissed him. 

That was what Oliver thought at first. And then, the kiss changed. Became less of a peck and more of . . . a kiss. Because her lips softened, her arms shifted to run into his hair, her body leaned into his, and--and he started to kiss her back.

XXX

Kissing Oliver hadn’t been something she planned. It had just been instinct. A crazy, spur-of-the-moment instinct, born out of gratitude and joy and not a little sexual frustration, because she hadn’t fucked this up, she wasn’t going to get fired, she wasn’t going to be totally responsible for bringing Oliver’s company to its knees. 

But as soon as their lips met and she realized what she was doing, Felicity didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want to keep holding back anymore, clinging to the shreds of “professionalism” and ignoring what existed between them: this crackling connection between them, the one that had been created five years ago and had survived years of separation. 

So she moved closer to him, moving her lips against his. She reached her hands into his hair, wanting to feel the short strands between her fingers. Arching her back, she pressed against him, trying to prompt a response from him. 

And then, she got one. 

Oliver’s mouth slanted against hers, hot and hard and hungry. She opened her mouth, closing her eyes as their tongues met, stroking each other, getting another taste of him. Her hands clutched at his hair, prompting Oliver to moan against her lips, and Felicity shuddered. 

This was--God, she needed him. 

“Oliver,” she panted against his lips, not sure what she was going to say, but somehow he read her mind and knew what she was asking. 

Because he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her just off her feet and pulling her over to one end of the conference table. He kissed her the whole time as he dazzled her with his strength. Five years ago, he could barely carry her five feet. Now, she bet he could have taken her against the wall, with the strength he had in his arms and torso. 

Just the thought of Oliver pinning her to the wall and sliding inside her made her wet, made her hot. But then he knocked the computer parts and papers off the conference table, with one sweep of his arm, and she forgot all about the wall. 

Felicity had totally thought about Oliver taking her on this table. And now it was going to happen and that definitely merited nipping at Oliver’s lower lip, rewarding him for his amazing, sexy, fantastic everything. 

Stepping back from him just a little, Felicity hopped up on the table and grinned at him. Feeling giddy and happy and alive, for the first time in a really long time. 

Oliver beamed back, a smile that made her feel weak all over. “God, Felicity,” he said, stepping between her legs and cupping her face in his hands. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted you . . .”

“Maybe as much as I’ve wanted you,” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him in against her. 

When his cloth-covered cock brushed against her center, Felicity sucked in a breath, her smile fading a little. Because--wow. That felt entirely too good, and clearly her memory hadn’t fully remembered that, and suddenly everything felt very real. 

“Felicity--” he said, leaning back a little as his eyes locked on hers. 

She looked at him and she realized that it was okay that it felt real. She wanted real. That was what she wanted, right now. She wanted Oliver and everything else could get figured out later. 

But she had a feeling that they were both going to be making different decisions than they had five years ago.

“Oliver, yes,” she said, meeting his gaze. And her eyes must have said enough, because his whole body relaxed and he was leaning back in to kiss her, so deeply and thoroughly that her head fell back from the onslaught. 

Was she wearing nice underwear? This whole week, she had been so focused on fixing the problems she had created, so determined to not take Oliver down with her, that she couldn’t even remember the last time she had showered. But her potential smelliness didn’t seem to be bothering Oliver, or maybe--ooooooh. 

Her mind lost track of her worries as Oliver kept kissing her, his hands clutching at her sides, helping hold her up even as he pressed against her. Felicity leaned one hand back, bracing herself so she could rock against him, creating some friction that made her whole body spark and flare like a firecracker. 

“Oh--yes--Oliver--” she gasped against his lips.

His hips jerked against her and she moaned loudly. Thank God it was so late--although right now, she was already past the point of caring. 

“Felicity,” he grunted softly, his mouth leaving hers and pressing kisses along her jaw and then--oh, the bastard had remembered how sensitive her earlobes were. It looked like her dream was right--he did remember what she liked. 

Already she knew this was going to be even hotter than before. She felt a flutter in her stomach as her panties got more and more soaked, and she couldn’t keep her hands still any longer. Shifting and bringing her hands up, Felicity moved to his tie and yanked on the knot, pulling it loose and drawing his tie away. 

Oliver lifted his head from her skin, staring down at her with wide, dark eyes. “I thought about tying you to a bed earlier.” 

A shiver went down her spine at the heat and desire in Oliver’s voice. Because that sounded so damn good. 

“Later,” she said, dropping his tie and attacking the buttons on his shirt. 

He groaned and kissed her hungrily, his hands landing on her hips and clutching her hard. It made it really hard to focus on undoing his shirt, so Felicity just took the two sides in her hands and yanked as hard as she could. 

Sending precisely none of his buttons flying. 

Groaning, Felicity went back to unbuttoning as Oliver laughed, his head resting against her neck. 

“Damn it, I wanted all hot, hard sex on the conference table, not funny quirky sex,” Felicity muttered. 

“Oh, I’ll show you hot and hard,” Oliver said, surprising her. Not just because he helped her undo his shirt and let it drop to the floor, revealing his glorious torso to her. Not just because he swooped down and kissed her hungrily. 

But because he made a joke. 

That was new. This was new. Still hot, but different from before. Because they were different people now. 

And then Oliver nipped her ear and Felicity didn’t want to think about anything but him.

XXX

He couldn’t remember the last time he actually laughed during sex. The last time he felt like he was having fun, that he was enjoying himself. That life was still surprising and full of excitement. 

And then her hands were running over the bare skin of his chest, and there was a different kind of excitement surging through his veins. 

Because this wasn’t like before. She wasn’t telling him what to do, staying in control. As hot as that had been five years ago--and as much as he would be happy for that to happen again at some point--right now, he liked what was happening between them now. 

It gave him hope that there really would be a next time, like Felicity had promised. 

“God, you are amazing,” she said, looking up at him with wide eyes.

The compliment made him grin while reminding him that Felicity was still completely clothed. And that was a tragedy. Because he had been doing nothing but notice her body since she had walked into this very room three months ago. 

Leaning in, Oliver kissed Felicity slowly as he slid his hands from her hips up her back, finding the zipper of her purple dress. He drew it down slowly with one hand, his other hand immediately slipping inside her dress to stroke along her spine. When he didn’t encounter a bra, he pulled back and looked down at her chest. 

“Surprised?” she asked, her voice a bit saucy. 

“If I had known you went around braless, this would have happened a hell of a lot sooner,” Oliver said, drawing her dress down slowly and revealing her breasts. Still pert and round and gorgeous. 

“Too bad that you didn’t know,” she said, sounding a bit breathless. And then he lifted his hands to cup her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, and Felicity let out the softest, sexiest moan ever. 

_She_ was the amazing one. The one who impressed, who dazzled. Because that’s how he felt: looking at her was like looking into the sun.

“Oliver--” she panted, then moaned when he took her nipple in his mouth, sucking softly and rubbing the flat of his tongue against her. “Ooooh . . .”

He pulled her closer, his hands dropping to her ass as he bent his knees, getting a better angle on her breast. Her hands went into his hair again, tugging on the strands, holding him against her breast. And she was talking. 

“Yes--like that . . . don’t stop . . . mmmmm, yes . . .” 

It felt less calculated than before. Less like she was putting on a show for him and more like she was just sharing what she was feeling. What his mouth was doing to her. And when she let out that moan again, Oliver felt his cock twitch and harden in his pants and he groaned. 

“Felicity,” he bit out, pulling back and tugging her dress lower. She lifted her hips, helping him get it off. Leaving her in just her panties and her sinfully high heels. 

And he felt paralyzed, looking at her like this. It was like his life had come full circle, and even though he was ready to explode, he just couldn’t move. Couldn’t believe this was happening. 

After a moment, Felicity slid to the edge of the table and crooked her finger. But to contrast with the come-hither gesture, her voice was gentle and soft and tender. “C’mere, Oliver.” 

When he stepped towards her, standing between her legs, she pulled him down for a long kiss, her hands stroking his pecs. She effortlessly set his blood on fire, and the emotional moment receded into the background as Oliver could only think about how his body felt. How she made his body feel. 

Their kisses became sloppy and urgent. He yanked her underwear off, dropping it to the floor, then ran his hands through her hair, feeling how soft it was. When her hands went to his belt, he moaned as she undid his pants. And then she was clutching his cock in her soft, warm hand, and all he could think about was his fantasy in the alley and how he wanted more than her mouth around him and-- 

“Condom?” he muttered against her lips, clutching her hips.

Felicity’s hand squeezed him tightly, nearly taking him to his knees. “Damn it,” she moaned, before looking at him. “I get the shot. Are you clean?” 

He blinked. “Um . . . yeah? Yes.” 

“Then we’re good,” she said, looking up at him. And there was something in her words, an extra meaning, that made the fire burn even hotter in Oliver. In unison, with no need for words, Felicity wrapped one arm around his neck and arched her back, her other hand drawing him towards her. Oliver put his hands on the table behind her, bracing himself. 

And then he was inside her, inside her warm, tight body, and Oliver felt like he was where he was supposed to be. No, it was more than that. 

Oliver was home. 

XXX

The moment he started to slide into her, Felicity’s eyelids fluttered, wanting to close. But with everything she had, she kept her eyes open. She wanted to look at Oliver, wanted to watch him. And it was worth the effort, because his whole face went soft, his eyes so bright and open and alive, that she felt alive, too. 

Once he was all the way in, her body adjusting to his thick, perfectly-shaped cock, Felicity tightened the arm around his neck, holding on to him. Her other hand rested over his heart, feeling it pound against her palm. 

“Felicity,” he said, his voice full of something that sounded a lot like awe. 

“Oliver,” she whispered, needing him to move. Needing him to move _now_. 

She rocked her hips a little, sending him the message of what she needed him to do. Not feeling the need to tell him flat-out. Not wanting to order him around--wanting this to be less about her bossing him around. 

And maybe it was because they knew each other better now or because they had both changed or maybe Oliver had become a mind-reader. Because he pulled out before giving her a long, deep thrust, one that made him sink inside her even farther than before, and Felicity let out a moan, her head falling back. 

“Feels so good,” he muttered, pressing his lips to her neck. 

“Yes,” she moaned in agreement, wrapping one leg around his waist. 

Oliver grunted and moved one arm around her back before pressing her down, moving her closer to the tabletop. The change in angle made her gasp, and then he slid deep inside her again and it was perfect. “Oh, God, Oliver!” 

The smile on his face was bright and happy and really dirty. He moved his hips, plunging in and out of her, as he brought his mouth to her ear. “Wanted to do this since you came back. Before you came back. I think I’ve been waiting for you.” 

Felicity closed her eyes, trembling against him. It was all too much, having his body so hard and firm and strong against hers, inside hers, when he was saying the sweet, tender things that she had longed to hear. 

He sucked gently on her earlobe as he kept thrusting. “Felicity . . . Felicity . . . “ 

His voice did something to her. Made something inside her uncoil and come to life. “Oliver,” she said, turning her head and kissing him hungrily. “More--harder,” she panted. Wanting to climax, wanting to fall over the edge and take him with her. 

“Yes,” he whispered, his eyes meeting hers. “Yes . . .” 

She clenched around him, drawing a groan from Oliver. He started moving faster, hitting that spot inside her, the one that drove her crazy. She was sliding a little against the table, the force of Oliver’s thrusts making her shudder. “Oh, oh God--Oliver, yes, ohhhh . . .” she whimpered, feeling so close--

And then Oliver was lowering her even further, holding them both up with one forearm against the table, and she felt his fingers clumsily rub at her clit. Felicity’s whole body went still before her orgasm was crashing over her, strong and powerful and inescapable. But she didn’t want to escape. She wanted to stay in this moment forever, the pleasure flooding her body and Oliver losing his rhythm, his hips jerking against hers as he climaxed. 

Trying to catch her breath, Felicity burrowed in against Oliver’s heaving chest, running her hands over his shoulders and back. His forearms were both holding her and keeping him from crushing her between the conference table and his ultra-hard, ultra-firm body, a piece of courtesy she appreciated. So she pressed kisses to his jaw and neck as a sign of her appreciation. 

“Mmmm, don’t stop,” he said when she slowed down. 

Felicity smiled against his skin. “You like that?” She licked his neck, then kissed just under his ear. 

Letting out a noise that sounded a lot like a purr, Oliver lifted his head and gazed down at her. It was such a penetrating look, something she wasn’t expecting, that Felicity nearly squirmed. But at the same time . . . it kept that feeling going, the sensation of something opening up inside her. 

So she didn’t look away. And slowly, Oliver smiled at her, and lightly brushed his nose against hers. “So you said something about later. You wanna get out of here?” 

It was such a simple question. One that she instinctively knew how she wanted to answer. Yes, she wanted to get out of here. Yes, she wanted it to be ‘later’, when he tied her to a bed and had his way with her. 

But if she said yes . . . what would happen after the immediate ‘later’? For her contract here at Queen Consolidated? For herself? For her and Oliver? 

All she wanted was to say yes. But after Cooper, after his theft of her algorithm, after fighting to be taken seriously in her profession and fighting to be her true self instead of some put-on persona . . . Felicity didn’t know what to do. 

Wanting something didn’t make it the best choice for you. 

Oliver frowned and pushed himself up a little, taking away his warmth and leaving her cold. “Felicity? You’re all tense--did I--did I say something wrong?” 

Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much he had opened himself up to her. How vulnerable he let himself be with her. Because she could see him bracing himself, could see the walls going up, and it made her heart hurt to realize she was causing that to happen. 

And she didn’t want that. 

XXX

There was a battle going on inside Felicity Smoak. He could tell. Within a moment of him asking if she wanted to go--and asking if she wanted more of him, more of this--her body had gone stiff. Her eyes were distant as she went into her head, her amazing mind apparently weighing the pros and cons of his offer. And when she bit her lower lip, the anxiety and nervousness clear to see, Oliver realized just how much he had fucked up. 

He had fallen in love with someone who didn’t know if she wanted him. Probably didn’t want him. And he felt like his guts had been scooped out with a spoon. 

Yet like an idiot, he still stuttered out, “Felicity? You’re all tense--did I--did I say something wrong?”

Without warning, her eyes focused and she came back, from wherever she had gone, to look at him. And she really looked at him. Oliver felt like she was trying to see into the depths of his soul, into the hidden parts of himself that no one had ever seen before. That no one had ever wanted to see. 

“I . . .” she whispered, her voice trailing off as she pressed her lips together. “I don’t know what I should do.” 

That wasn’t what he expected her to say. What did she mean, she didn’t know what to do? How could that be true? He had never met anyone who seemed so certain, so self-aware. Even when they had first met, he knew that Felicity knew herself. 

Oliver couldn’t think of anything to say and there was silence for a long moment before Felicity spoke again. “I--I want more. Of you. And I want more than just this.” Her hand hesitantly ran over his back and then fell away, making his body feel alive even as his heart throbbed. “But--but I don’t know if that’s the right choice. For you, or for me, or . . . or for us. If there is an us.” 

What did it say about him that hearing her say that made his heart stop throbbing and start soaring? Because it wasn’t that she didn’t care about him--she wasn’t sure about what would change if they were together. And that was so much easier to face than the thought of trying to make her care about him. There was no way Felicity could be made to do anything. But he could make her see that there was no reason to be scared. 

Gently, he pulled her up into a sitting position and moved off the conference table to stand in front of her. She blinked at him yet didn’t show any signs of embarrassment at both of them still being naked. But when he cupped her face in his hands, her eyes went wide. 

“Felicity,” he said softly, “there’s no way to know if it’s the right choice. Unless we do this. Unless you come back to my place with me, or we go to your hotel room--your choice--and get some sleep. Just sleep. In the morning, we’ll get breakfast and I can drive you back here. I’ll bring you lunch and strongly encourage you to leave at a supposedly-decent hour.” He paused, gauging her reaction, but her face was thoughtful. 

Taking a breath, he kept going. “And tomorrow night, we’ll get dinner together. Like a date, which is what most people do when they meet someone who’s really, really amazing and they want to get to know them. Want to start something special.” 

Her breath caught before she swallowed. “Oliver . . . are you sure? Because I’m supposed to stay here for another three months, and if this doesn’t work, it’s going to be really awkward.”

He rubbed his thumbs against her cheeks. Never before had he needed to convince someone to be with him. If he couldn’t get through to her, he knew it was going to hurt. But not as much as not even trying. 

The words weren’t working. Words weren’t getting through. So he stopped talking and leaned in towards her, bringing his lips to hers. 

It was a soft, slow, sweet kiss. One filled with yearning and reassurance and promises. Because this time was going to be different. 

For a long moment, Felicity let him kiss her. It kept him in a state of hope and fear--because she hadn’t pushed him away, but she wasn’t responding, either. 

And then her arms wrapped around him, and her lips moved against his, and Oliver nearly collapsed from the relief that went through him. 

Breaking the kiss, Oliver took a deep breath, unable to stop himself from smiling as he rested his forehead against hers. “So . . . you said something about later. You wanna get out of here?” 

There were still a few doubts lurking in her eyes, but she was smiling back at him. Smiling so brightly that Oliver tightened his grip on her. “God, yes,” she said, her hands stroking over his skin. “I’m too old for sex on a table. I want a bed.” 

“Are you sure about that? I had this idea about me and you and a wall . . .” he said, pressing kisses along her jaw. 

Felicity let out a little gasp. “Oh--me too--oooh, Oliver . . .” 

They settled for their next time being on the couch in his office. And the third time was inside her hotel room, against the door. But after that, they both agreed they should go to bed, but to sleep. 

The fourth time was in bed. Although tying her up had to wait until later the next morning.

End.


End file.
